A/N: I usually do abrupt endings, but what the heck. Beware: extremely long chapter.

Disclaimer: If I owned Kingdom Hearts, the stories that I write won't be called fanfiction; it'll be called the plot of Kingdom Hearts.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

--------------------------

Q u e s t i o n i n g

----------------------

faded memories;

reconstructed memories--

A dream--a dream of you

In a world without you.

why have you forgotten?

about me?

about us?

Plick. The pencil curved downward shaply, marring what otherwise would have been a face.

Naminé set it down and bit her lip, staring across the white room at the massive glass globe.

A brunette shouting at a blonde. A star-shaped keychain on the white floor.

Her job was done.

She stared at the white paper in front of her. The face was all too familiar, but she could never seem to be able to place his name. All she remembered was one and only one name, for that matter.

Sora.

Sighing, she once again flipped to the back of her sketchpad, going through page after colored page of crude drawings--all looked like it had been done by a preschooler. Now, Naminé was sure she had never seen a preschooler before, but somehow, she remembered being one...strange.

Ah, here it was.

With trembling fingers she drew out a slip of folded paper, and smoothed it out with her pale hands. And once again, she bowed her head, blinking back the tears that threatened to fall.

It was a sketch of a boy; he looked so much like Sora--except he had blonde, unruly hair, and eyes that were a slightly darker shade of blue. Naminé did not understand why this drawing made her feel so sad when she wasn't supposed to be feeling at all. She certainly did not have the aptitude to produce such a likeness, yet there was her writing, pushed into a corner, her name spelled out in precise letters.

You're my sanctuary.

By Naminé.

She had no idea how her name got there; she did not know anything at all before Castle Oblivion. Marluxia said they found her; a broken girl lying unconscious in one of Oblivion's rooms, mind blank as her drawing paper.

Naminé was a witch, Larxene told her once. Well...it was true; her...abilities lay not in the art of fighting, but in the subtle art of rechaining memories. That was the only thing that was keeping her alive--if she did not do as she was told to do so, she--and that boy, Sora--would be killed.

Sora was something of a Keyblade prodigy; he had unfailing enthusiasm for everything he did, exactly the opposite of her.

He was colorful--rich mahogany, scarlet-flushed cheeks, metallic silver Keyblade. She was pale--almost translucent skin, bleached hair, white sundress.

At least their eyes were both blue; his reflected the sky; hers reflected the calm ocean.

But as she stared at the sketch in front of her...she had a vague feeling she was missing something.

Or someone.

His eyes, this nameless boy, had the intensity of an ocean in the midst of a storm.

She bent her head and let her tears flow. She hated not being able to remember. She had tried everything, from banging her head repeatedly on the white marble table (which only resulted in a very bruised forehead and a very furious Marluxia), to trying to rechain her own memories--delving deep inside, just like she was doing with Sora's.

There was a hitch...she learned that trying to muddle your own mind was something not to do, she learned that the hard way. She found Axel, the fiery redhead sort of overprotective brother she had (and really, the only civil one among them Organization), hovering over her worriedly one day. She was shocked to learn that she had been out of action for two months--which made for another furious Marluxia and an overly interested Vexen--just because she had dared to rearrange her own memories.

Needless to say, she never tried said stunt again.

So she spent her days drawing crude drawings, rearranging already perfectly okay memories (of a boy she had never met before in her entire life--and yet she had a feeling she had already), listening to long-winded lectures, and existing as a Nobody in general.

She hissed irritably, folding the sketch of the blonde boy up and sliding it carefully among the leaves of her sketchbook. He wore the same pitch-black coat Marluxia, Larxene, Vexen and Axel always wore. Maybe he had something to do with them...?

Naminé had tried asking them once...only Axel gave her a coherent answer. And it wasn't even that clear.

"He's the key; your key," he said cryptically before engaging her in a game of tic-tac-toe (in which, she was proud to say, she kicked his butt), waving aside her further questions.

Arrrgh. If only she could remember!

-

- - - - - - - - -

-

"Hey, I heard Larxene's dead," Demyx said offhandedly, leaning back into his chair as he munched noisily on somewhat burnt toast.

Roxas, however, spit out the water that he had been drinking unceremoniously, spraying number Nine with water.

"Get a grip, Rox," he wrinkled his nose.

"Demyx! Larxene's dead, and you're just acting like it was nothing!" he exclaimed unbelievingly, staring at the mullet-haired teen.

He shrugged. "I could never feel sad, anyway."

Roxas raised an eyebrow. "Oh? But I thought you could remember how to?"

"Still...it's not the same."

Sighing, Roxas set the glass down on the white (as usual, white, well, more white, since he had just scrubbed said countertop with a nice combination of Marluxia's fabric conditioner and industrial-strength bleach) kitchen counter. "Who did her in?"

Demyx grimaced. "It's that Sora kid."

His eyebrows furrowed; Roxas had taken to wearing a scowl more often these days. "My Other?"

"Yeah--last time I heard, he's killing them all off---"

Roxas suddenly stood up, knocking over his white (not marble this time, but cheap plastic--much more easier to replace in case a certain berserker went, well, berserk over the scrambled eggs) chair. He gritted his teeth; Xemnas had kept Castle Oblivion's happenings from him long enough.

Demyx stared at him, sapphire blue eyes wide. "What?"

Huffing, Roxas stomped around the kitchen counter, rummaging for a pocket knife. Hey, you couldn't be too careful. "I'm going to pay Oblivion a long-due visit."

"Hell no! You can't!" number Nine said fearfully. "Uhm, who knows what Superior would do if he found out? And you don't have a chance against Marluxia with only one Keyblade!"

"Sora kicked Larxene's butt to oblivion with only one," Roxas reminded him, trying to decide whether to bring a spork or not. Hm. It might come in handy; with Organization XIII, you never know.

Demyx shook his head resignedly. "It's your own funeral."

"It's not like I'm going to demolish that Castle or something," he said flatly, pocketing the Swiss knife (the ceramic handle was somewhat burned--Roxas had once used it to jimmy Axel's locked cabinet, and the pyro hadn't taken the gesture in the brightest of moods) and the spork, leaving the pocket knife (that actually belonged to Xigbar; he once used it to trim a particularly bad hangnail--ew) and pushing the cutlery drawer shut. "Like I said, I'm just going to visit. It's almost half a year, anyway, and still no word from them."

"We're not supposed to get word from them," he pointed out, yawning widely.

"Whatever..."

"Naminé can take care of herself, you know."

Roxas cringed. He had promised he would visit, but Xemnas had kept very close tabs on him ever since they left. This was his chance...the Superior was off doing recon in Hollow Bastion (but Roxas had a sneaky feeling it was only another, more serious rephrasal of 'spying on that old geezer that was my Other's mentor'), and left the Castle for a short while.

He imagined how Naminé would react if he suddenly appeared in Oblivion. Knowing the girl's disposition, she'd probably slap him. Twice. Then she'd probably kiss him. Yeah.

Okay, hormones surging. But kissing was probably a good thing. Yeah.

"...I still have to check up on her."

Demyx raised an eyebrow. "Don't you trust that Axel would take care of her?"

"As much as he's my best friend...Axel's a Nobody, and Nobodies are inclined to...betray very easily."

"Tough," he puffed out, leaning back into his chair, and putting his feet up on the immaculately white counter, ignoring Roxas' scandalized glare. Hey! He had hand-scrubbed that!

"Yeah. I'll be back before dinner..."

"Suit yourself," he laced his fingers behind his head and yawned once again. "Oh, and while you're there, could you please tell Axel to bring back the gloves he borrowed unburnt?"

Roxas nodded, amused, and watched as Demyx fell asleep in a record time of six seconds. Calling his Oblivion Keyblade in one hand, and his trusty Swiss knife (which contains a six-inch, four-inch, and two-inch titanium blades, a can opener, a bottle opener, a pair of scissors, a screwdriver, a lighter, a lockpick, a paintbrush, a pencil, a metal ruler, a string of paper clips, a hair straightener, a ceramic curler, and many other useful things suitable for the modern Nobody--not in that order, of course) in the other, he portalled out.

He grinned. Finally! A mini-reunion with Naminé would do good for his angsty nonexistence.

-

- - - - - - - - - -

-

Axel stalked through the halls of Castle Oblivion, feeling pretty depressed as he set random things on fire (like that door that led to Sora's Halloweentown, and that fluffy earmuffs Marluxia had left lying around). Larxene had kicked the bucket; she had gotten an awesome butt-kicking from a kid with an oversized key.

Not that this is the first time he had seen one; he had a Keyblade Wielder for a best buddy.

He walked the now-familiar path to Naminé's room, checking up on her as he habitually did every three hours or so. Sora was still somewhere on the tenth floor, or so had Vexen told him. Anyway, this was the thirteenth floor...the brunette had a lot more to go.

Axel scratched his head absentmindedly...planning the next thing to do to stop this chain of betrayals. Stupid Marluxia, thinking he could ever take over the Organization. Even stupider...he had grossly underestimated Sora's strength. Even the Riku Replica Vexen made was no match for him.

The kid was good with swinging that Keyblade--Axel knew that firsthand.

Sighing, he stopped in front of an unmarked white door, and knocked. Now, why was he knocking, when he could just portal in?

Out of habit.

Roxas had entrusted Naminé's safety to Axel; and the blonde had cautioned him that the girl hated it when someone barged into her room without warning (a few black-eye incidents and one bloody broken nose was testament to that, Naminé was strong when she was mad). Well, the old Naminé, that was.

"Come in, Axel," a clear, thin voice filtered out. What was once a strong, teasing voice, capable of giggling and screaming in a matter of seconds. What was once.

He turned the silver doorknob and pushed the door open, revealing a frail blonde girl, occupying the solitary chair in her blindingly white room. Naminé was used to Axel's daily routine of checking up on her; in fact, if he wasn't mistaken, the blonde looked forward to seeing him.

"Hey, Nam," he raised a gloved hand in greeting. He dearly hoped that Naminé would greet him in her once-usual way--either glomp him, or tackle him to the ground, or just grin up at him. However, Naminé had forgotten how to grin a long, long time ago.

She smiled weakly, the best display of emotion she could manage. "Hello, Axel."

Naminé, in a nutshell, had forgotten.

Well, at first, when Marluxia briefed her on the current (ongoing--still no happy ending in sight) mission, Naminé had vehemently objected. But she relented, once the brunette-haired flower boy threatened her with the one threat he knew she'd never refuse.

Roxas.

Marluxia said he'd kill Sora if Naminé didn't do what he wanted--the blonde couldn't care less if Sora died (since they felt no remorse; conscience was something that held the minority in a Nobody's thinking), but if Sora kicked the bucket...Roxas, as his Nobody, would fade away with him.

She didn't want that. Of course, who in their right mind would want to be the indirect cause of their loved (never mind if they can't feel) ones' untimely death? So she grudgingly conceded, telling herself that after this was all over, she's do everything to right her wrongs.

It was supposed to have a happy ending, but...Nobodies weren't supposed to have happy endings.

Axel looked on curiously at the intricately crafted metal set down on the table in front of Naminé. Huh? "What's that?"

She shook her head gracefully. "I don't know. It seems to have some sort of...link with Sora; I made a replica of this keychain, and for some reason, everytime I pick it up, this huge key appears," Naminé said softly, fingering the attached paopu-ornament.

It clicked. What Naminé had in front of her was no ordinary silvercraft; it was Roxas' Oathkeeper. Oh.

"It's unusual...I feel like I'm missing something."

Axel stared at her. HELL YEAH. YOU'RE MISSING A HUGE CHUNK OF GRAY MATTER CALLED MEMORY. Uh. Okay.

No-one had expected that once Naminé began reworking Sora's memories that she would lose hers as well. In a span of one month, she had completely forgotten everything before she had arrived here, and Marluxia took advantage of her ignorance--feeding her half-truths and whole lies. Axel looked on helplessly; after all, Marluxia was put in charge. Hmm. He's going to have a nice chat with the Superior after this was all over. Yeah.

After this was all over...most likely, Roxas would be pissed.

Pissed off might be a massive understatement. But hey! He promised Roxas he'd take care of Naminé's safety--he never said anything about her memories or something about that. Hm. Maybe they should have written it down on paper, and had it signed by a lawyer.

He watched, fascinated, as Naminé waved a hand over a blank space of table, her other hand grasping the star-keychain tightly. An exact replica of the yellow fruit appeared in a sparkly, glittery way.

She frowned. "I don't know how I did that. I don't even know why I have this keychain," she said helplessly, wringing her pale hands. Axel wanted so much to yell right then and now 'YOUR BOYFRIEND GAVE YOU THAT, YOU AMNESIAC ANEMIC GIRL', but he decided against it. Aside from the fact that Marluxia would most likely try his best to decapitate him, Naminé would ask him even more questions, and questions were something that Axel didn't like. She'd probably stare at him blankly as he tried to explain what had happened. Gah. He could feel a headache coming on.

"Uhm. Axel?" he felt a tug on his sleeve. Naminé's cerulean blue eyes stared at him, and if he wasn't mistaken, she was giving him the Look that they had once tried in vain to copy. Argh. She reminded him of his best friend. Argh. "If you wouldn't mind, could you please give this to the Riku Replica?" she held out the newly-created keychain. "I think he broke his first one..."

Axel stared at her shrewdly, and muttered under his breath as he took the star from her hand. "It's not the only one that's broken..."

"Huh?"

"Nothing, nothing, Naminé. See you later," he sighed, shuffling out of the room. If he hurried, he might still have time to convince Marluxia to stop this madness. Grimacing, he closed the door with an audible click, and looked up, star glinting brightly amongst his gloved fingers.

Uhhh...oh. Oh hell no. This was not happening.

He looked up right into Roxas.

"Hey! Axel!" he said brightly, running into him and hugging him tightly. "Long time no see!"

OH HELL NO. THIS IS HORRIBLE TIMING. Something told him he was going to need one hell of a dosage of painkillers.

-

- - - - - - - - - -

-

"Feh, you sap, geroff me," Axel growled good-naturedly, managing to pry Roxas off. He grinned, and the pyro grinned back. Of course, when you hadn't seen your best friend for a year, you'd probably do the same (which was act like complete idiots).

"I am not a sap!" he pouted, stomping his foot in the way he always did when he was frustrated. All he needed now was to roll around on the white marble floor and throw a tantrum. Well, he had already tried it once--and he found out Demyx was so much more of a whiner that him. "Sooo...Axel, how're things going around here?"

The redhead stared at him suspiciously. "You do know you're not exactly allowed to take a quiet, leisurely stroll around here, don't you?"

"Oh c'mon, I wanted to visit for ages, but the Superior won't get off my case--"

Was it just Roxas, or was Axel tiptoeing discreetly away from the door he had just closed? Grinning evilly, he reached out to open the door, and quick as a flash, a gloved hand shot out and grabbed his wrist. Managing to raise an eyebrow and glare at the same time, he stared curiously at the Flurry of Dancing Flames.

"Why don't I give you a tour of this place?" He said airily, averting his gaze. Oh yeah. As if that wouldn't make Roxas suspicious. Noo, it wouldn't.

"What's up with you?" Roxas asked, giving Axel the Look he had so missed doing. The pyro flinched.

"Your safety. S-A-F-E-T-Y," he answered disapprovingly. "Got it memorized?"

Thirteen bobbed his head wordlessly; when Axel said something that contained the phrase 'Got it memorized', it was better not to argue--you could end up burnt in places you've never dreamed of.

"Speaking of safety..." Roxas looked around the hallway, "Can I see Naminé...now?"

Was it just him, or did Axel just blanch? Not only blanch, but turn a very unnatural shade of pale sickly white? His teal eyes darted around the hall; looking everywhere except at Roxas. He laughed, "Roxas, you're not blind, of course you can see Na--"

Roxas gave him the Look once again, and Axel actually squirmed. "Axel, you know what I mean."

"Aah--"

He took a step forward. "Is...something wrong?"

"Aah--"

At that very moment, as Roxas stared at his best friend's almost frightened expression, he felt something he had not felt for a long, long time.

Fear.

He started breathing erratically. "N-Naminé's okay, isn't she?" he asked frantically.

Axel tilted his head. "Technically..."

Roxas' gaze strayed to the door Axel had oh-so-subtly pulled him away from--and he knew at once it was Naminé's room. Gah. What the hell happened to her? Gritting his teeth, he sprinted for the door, ignoring the pyro's sudden yell.

He wrenched the door open, and sighed in relief. Naminé was, as usual, sitting in front of a white marble table, pencil poised to draw over paper. He heard Axel skid to a stop behind him, panting. Roxas grinned and looked over his shoulder. "Axel...I really thought something was wrong here."

He winced nervously. "Actually, there is."

"Huh?"

"A-axel...who is he?"

Roxas frowned and turned back to face the blonde girl. She was clutching her pencil tightly in icy fingers, while her other hand was gripping the table. She had on an expression of fear and apprehension, and she had shrunk back visibly when he turned around. He alternated a helpless gaze between Naminé and Axel.

And it occured to him...the little pranksters! He grinned. "Very funny, you guys, ha ha ha."

Axel stared at him, and shook his head slowly.

Roxas snorted. "You can't fool me."

"Axel! Who is he?" Naminé said shrilly, portalling out of her chair and appearing behind Axel, her pale white hands clutching his sleeve.

He frowned once again. "Guys, this is not funny anymore."

"Roxas..." the pyro said softly, staring at the floor. "Do you really think I'd play this"--he wriggled his arm slightly, and Naminé gave a muffled cry--"kind of joke on you?"

"Roxas..." she whispered, as if testing his name on her lips for the first time. Roxas' resolve crumbled when he realized it probably was. Trembling, his shoulders slumped and he fell on his knees.

"No way...Axel!" he said through gritted teeth, looking up at his best friend, struggling not to look at the girl holding his arm tightly. "How?"

He sighed. "We had no idea that Naminé was created when Kairi's heart left Sora's body. So technically, she's Sora's Nobody--but that's just wrong, so we paid no attention to that. But when she started to break the chains of Sora's memories..." he trailed off, leaving Roxas to finish his sentence for him.

"...she was breaking hers as well..." his voice choked up in his throat.

"Huh? What?" Naminé was saying, stepping timidly from behind Axel.

"And why did you have to rechain my Other's memories in the first place?" he exclaimed angrily.

Axel backed away slowly. "Hey, hey! It was Marluxia's idea! He wanted to betray the Organi--" he froze.

Now, freezing in place was something that should never be done in a Castle that was occupied by extremely deadly assassins who believed that black would never go out of style. Roxas, as much as he was distraught right now, stared at Axel curiously. He strained to listen, and picked up the sounds of a very nasty fight in the floors below.

"Naminé," Axel said in a tight voice. "If you want to save Sora, you have to come with me and make him see the truth."

Roxas stared.

Axel averted his eyes and held out a gloved hand to the blonde girl. "He needs you to save him."

Naminé nodded. Roxas stared at her has she brushed past him--she had no idea who he was.

Oh, cripes, that hurt.

Eight walked over to him, leaving Naminé huddled against the doorframe, her cerulean eyes wide and fearful.

"Roxas...she loves Sora now; somewhere in her ruined mind she thinks he's you, and she's willing to give up everything, even her existence, for your Other, just as she would have done for you. I'm sorry it had to come to this--it would've been better if you hadn't visited."

Stunned, Roxas watched, unmoving, as they portalled out.

His best friend. His girlfriend. Portalling out, probably to their deaths at the hands of his illustrious Other.

This. Was. Not. Happening.

Gritting his teeth, he got to his feet, taking in Naminé's white (blindingly white--hurts to look at) room. He spotted his Oathkeeper Keychain, lying innocently on the white marble. As soon as he touched it the Oathkeeper flared to life, its metal cool and light in his hand.

His eyes narrowed; pinned underneath the brilliant yellow star was a folded piece of paper. One look, and he knew what it was--he had dreamed of her and this piece of white paper so many times before. He slipped it protectively into his pocket, and summoned his Oblivion Keyblade.

Xemnas was probably back at the Castle That Never Was right now. Just in time; Roxas thought it was time to have a little chat with his Superior.

Axel won't let Naminé die, that's for sure. But...the Naminé he loved, the Naminé he knew...she was gone.

-

- - - - - - - - - - -

-

"Pfft," Naminé groaned, wincing as she stretched out her arms, cramped from hovering over a keyboard for the better part of the day.

It didn't help when she had to do this every single day for months now. Sora's memories was something like an immensely difficult jigsaw puzzle--she didn't know that she had done that much damage to the Keyblade Master.

"Walk around for a while," Riku's voice said behind her, and she smiled gratefully at the silver-haired Wielder. She had often wondered how he saw with that stupid blindfold on...well, aside from the fact that it looked kinda cool and mysterious...it served no other purpose. Huh. Boys. She'll never understand them.

She yawned. "Can do, Riku."

He chuckled, and portalled out of the pod chamber.

She gingerly put weight on one blue sandal, and her leg reflexively had the sensation of pins and needles as the blood rushed back. Gah. Piecing together memories would kill her someday--not that she was alive, anyway.

Taking a deep breath, she started walking around the pod, eager to see the subject of her hard work.

There in the middle of the bud shaped thingamajig (DiZ had yet to think of a name; something that was technologically impressive yet aesthetic at the same time), floated a boy--fifteen years of age, serenely asleep (and would remain that way, unless she got his mind together). Soft, spiky mahogany tresses swayed in a magically-induced force field. She sighed.

Sora...

And with that name came the memory of the gold-haired boy that stumbled through her door so very long ago, back in Castle Oblivion. She had told no-one that she had met him, for Axel had cautioned her not to...Hm. She wondered where the cheery pyro was now--he disappeared together with Castle Oblivion.

Roxas. That was a nice name.

And he was the only one missing in Sora's scattered memories.

Somehow, she felt sad, because once this boy--Roxas had merged with Sora, he'd be bound forever.

It's the fate of a Nobody, and she knew, that one day...she'll share the same fate as him.

-

- - - - - - - - - - -

-

"Your mind's made up?"

Roxas paused, biting his lip. Hell yeah his mind was made up--there was nothing left for him here. A year--a whole year had passed since he last saw Naminé. Axel was the only one who returned from the whole Oblivion mess. It obviously pained Axel to tell his best friend that Naminé was now under the protection of the realm of light...he could never touch her, as long as he kept his disposition as the Key of Destiny.

But he'd find a way. He always does. And now he had caught wind of a challenge--a duel between him and another Wielder. Ha.

Xemnas had explicitly forbidden him contact with these...Somebodies, but Roxas couldn't control himself. Between worrying for his Naminé's safety, and wondering why exactly the Organization felt the need to separate him from his Other...there wasn't a lot of self-control to go around.

He currently had a lot of questions about his existence right now.

"Why did the Keyblade choose me?" he said flatly. "I have to know."

Axel gritted his teeth audibly. "You can't turn on the Organization!"

Roxas rolled his eyes--this came from the guy who was practically the reason why Marluxia, Vexen, and Larxene were dead. He sure had a shrewd best friend.

"You get on their bad side...they'll destroy you!"

He stomped his foot one last time--he had no time for this. He craned his neck up, and he could see Memory's Skyscraper. Tacky name, but served the purpose well. He was the youngest member--they'd move on if he failed. "No one would miss me," he said coldly, walking away from the redhead leaning against the brick wall.

He felt his breath hitch as he caught Axel's last words. "That's not true...I would."

He raised a sleeve and scrubbed the tears from his eyes, his footsteps lost in the pounding rain. He put his hood up.

He stopped short, his boots splashing in the puddles against the ground. He fingered the necklace Naminé had given him, and tucked it securely beneath his coat. He swore it would stay with him forever, as with the piece of paper that rustled softly in his pocket.

Pieces of memory.

In front of him, Memory's Skyscraper towered over him, and a lone figure stood at the top.

Roxas had a question.

And because of a boy he had never seen in his entire existence, Naminé wasn't there to answer it.

Nevertheless, he spoke, and asked, hoping the dark breeze of this night-bound world would carry his question to wherever she was.

"Where's Sora?"

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Sorry sorry sorry for the delay! I got swamped by the massive amount of work my professors set me to do! -sobs- And also, I am very, very mad at my English prof...she gave me a barely passing grade on this essay...oh c'mon, lady! -growls-

Hmm...d'you guys think I should write the part of Roxas and Naminé's meeting shown in KHII...?

Review. It makes me very happy. c:

Flamers can go ahead...it's not good to bottle up anger, is it?